Cream Soda
by Durotos
Summary: HM SNES. Years of alcoholism had made strangers of two people who were once inseparable. Ellen longed to hear her father's laughter again - his genuine laughter. Hank wondered if Ellen could ever see her as more than a failure. Written for my friend, SaoirseParisa! Have a wonderful birthday!


_**Have a wonderful birthday, Julia! You're such a sweet person, and you deserve so much happiness! :) I hope you enjoy!**_

_**0o0o0o0**_

Hank didn't remember the birds being so loud up on the mountain trail. The air was clean as it brushed past them, and the tall grass danced in the breeze. It did little to ease his headache; he squinted his eyes as they continued along, the bright sunshine causing his head to throb.

She hadn't said much to him at all during their trip up the path, directing all of her words at the dog accompanying them. He had vague memories of the puppy, tripping over it on multiple occasions in the wee hours of the morning as he snuck home from the bar. The dog would howl in surprise, alerting everyone in the house of Hank's arrival…

He was still fighting the temptation to give the dog a swift kick on the rump. Hank closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as he let his anger flow out of him. The pup clearly meant a great deal to his daughter, even if it lived at that new farmer's place now.

"I bet you get a lot of exercise at the farm, huh, Koro?" Ellen asked, her eyes shining as she looked down at her four-legged companion.

The dog gave a bark in reply, bounding ahead to inspect a shrub.

The young woman looked behind her to see her father continuing at a sluggish pace. Discomfort was clearly written on his face despite the fake smile he had slapped on as he noticed her gaze. She gripped the picnic basket in her hands, nervously clearing her throat.

"How about making this our spot?" she asked, her voice quavering. Half expecting sharp words in reply, she braced herself. The past few days had been unpredictable to say the least. Between his violent mood swings and obvious suffering, she was surprised that he had agreed to accompany her at all. She had asked him expecting to be turned down and was surprised by the gleam of determination in his eyes when he agreed. Something about it reminded her of when she was very young and he would race her across her uncle's ranch, laughing like he didn't have a care in the world.

Things had changed since then. His smile had faded, his eyes had sunken in. He stopped cleaning and countertops and dessert case and began leaning on them, openly drinking during store hours. At first, Ellen didn't mind because her father laughed a lot when he was drunk. Everything was a joke and she'd chuckle along, unaware of her mother's disapproving glare. She remembered once when Hank bought some of her favorite cream soda and giggled and drank together, much to his wife's horror.

That evening had changed everything in Ellen's world.

She pulled the blankets over her head that night, trembling as her parents' voices rose in the other room, accusing and yelling amid broken plates and chairs being knocked over. She snapped her eyes shut and held her breath when her mother quietly opened the door, checking to see if they had awakened her. Ellen felt that the least she could do was pretend to be oblivious to the situation.

She didn't know the fights would become a nightly ritual.

The young girl began to loathe the bottle her father carried with him everywhere he went. She hated the way her parents looked at each other anymore. It wasn't long until the only color that rose to her father's pale face was from the alcohol.

Years passed, and as she grew, so did the distance between her and her father. It had gotten to the point that she spent all day at her uncle's to avoid him, but guilt kept her coming to the bar every night to fetch him. On one particular night, Eve had given Ellen a hopeless shrug as she fetched the sick bucket from behind the bar.

"He says it's all that gives him pleasure anymore."

Ellen's eyes hardened and Eve raised her eyebrows in alarm. "I can get you a soda if you like while you're waiting, on the house. We've got that really nice cream soda from the next town over…"

Ellen could still hear her father's laughter blending with her own girlish giggles. She could remember what it felt like to sit perched up high on that stool, dangling her feet and kicking them with glee. She furrowed her brow; she had been a fool. "No thank you. That stuff makes me sick."

Hank looked up from his bucket, his hazy eyes blinking in surprise. "Aw, Ellen, don't be so grumpy. Eve'll fix ya up real nice…"

She couldn't stand it anymore. Ellen clenched her jaw, tears streaming down her face. "I said 'no thank you'."

His laughter stopped as she haphazardly wiped her face. She said nothing as she helped him up and walked him home, her grip on his arm a little firmer than usual. She took him up to his room and wordlessly went to her own, shutting the door loudly.

He had spent the next couple of days confined to his room. Ellen had left his food on the nightstand and left the room immediately, determined not to meet his eye.

"He's trying," her mother told her the next day. There was a light in her eyes Ellen hadn't seen in years. "He told me to get rid of all of it." A couple of happy tears tumbled down her cheeks.

A lump formed in Ellen's throat.

_He'll be back on the bottle by this time tomorrow… Why is he trying now of all times? Doesn't he realize how much he's already missed?_

She threw her arms around her mother and sobbed.

But he didn't drink that next day. Or the one after that. It had been a couple of weeks now, and although he looked green most days, he began clumsily wiping down the counters again. He threw up a lot. He would burst into tears and punch the walls at what seemed like random intervals. He was too ill to even think about going out in the evenings and went to bed early, too tired to argue with his wife.

A small flame of hope ignited in Ellen's heart and she couldn't stop herself from asking him to join her on a picnic. Now that they were actually here in the mountains, she found herself at a loss of what to do. She looked at the spot she had selected with a clumsy smile, her stomach a bundle of nerves.

Her apprehension was obvious. Hank's heart sunk. It couldn't be more apparent that she was still uncomfortable around him, and it was likely his wife had urged their daughter to spend some time with him. Could he really blame her, though? He was completely out of his element…

"Yeah, this place'll work."

Hank watched silently as his daughter spread out the blanket for the picnic. She didn't ask for his help as she set out the food and he was grateful when she offered her hand to help him sit.

The simple sandwiches were delicious. Hank wasn't sure if it was because he had finally acquired an appetite once more, or if the alcohol had dulled his sense of taste. The fresh cucumber and tomato were fresh, crisp, and juicy.

_How do I even begin to try to speak to her again?_

Hank looked up at his daughter, swallowing the lump in his throat. "E-Ellen, I…"

His words were cut off when Koro snatched the Frisbee sitting beside Ellen and trotted off happily.

"Koro!" Her laughter didn't make her scolding very convincing. She looked after the dog longingly. It had felt like ages since they had spent time together, and yet…

"Go on," Hank told her, shooing her with his hand. "He wants to play."

The glow in his eyes reminded her of something from long ago. The corners of her lips turned upward despite her misgivings. "Are you sure?"

He waved his hand once more, hiding the tremors that were taking place. "Sure! Show me how far you can throw it!"

He was laughing again, and it wasn't an effect of drunkenness. Her heart lifted and she couldn't help but add a giggle of her own. "And when you're feeling better, you can throw, too!" The words slipped out of Ellen's mouth before she could stop them. Her lips turned into a tight line as she averted her eyes, hanging her head.

"Y-yeah. If you'd like that, I'd be willing to try." His words were ever gravelly, but there was a musical lilt to them that had become foreign to her over the years.

Ellen blinked the mistiness from her eyes and looked out at Koro, who was wagging her tail at her playfully. She gave her father another look, who gave her a nod in reply.

_I know it's just one afternoon, but…_

_It's a start._


End file.
